


Story of a Passable Pacifist

by NeonFlow



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bad Puns, Badass Frisk, Blood and Gore, Breaking the Fourth Wall, But isn't that a given?, Chara (Undertale) - Freeform, Chara Is Dead, Dark Character, Emotional Flowey, Experimental Styles, Flowey Is A Dick, Frisk (Undertale) - Freeform, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Get out your dictionary, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I didn't mean for it to get dark this fast, I will tag more as I go on, Mental Instability, Mental Link, Mild Gore, My First Fanfic, Mystery Character(s), Nice Chara, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Nonbinary Chara and Frisk, POV Third Person, Passive-Aggressive Frisk, Queen Toriel, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Sarcasm, Soft Chara, Some Humor, Spoilers - Undertale Neutral Route, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, Tsundere Chara, Undertale Neutral Route, Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonFlow/pseuds/NeonFlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, Monsters and Humans ruled the Earth, and, one day, war broke out between the two races. After a long-winded and grievous battle the Humans won. They quickly sealed the monsters underground with a powerful barrier; leaving the monsters to wallow in despair. Due to the losses of many loved ones the kingdom loses hope. Yet, they continued on, and eighth came to empty the underground.</p><p>P.s. This is a (not so) little story that I've been wanting to write for a while, but haven't had the motivation to. So, there are no promises on the next chapter, but I hope you'll still enjoy it (not to mention I've never been the best at plotting out a well... plot so it may be delayed over me mulling over menial things). Also, the first chapter/prologue is extremely short and only provides character insight, thus, it can be skipped if you so choose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfiction (I actually dabble in writing quite a bit). But, I want to clear this right now, should I state Frisk's sex? No, I will still use the pronouns I have assigned (deal with it). However, Frisk's sex will play a role in the story if I choose to include it. With that out of the way, I thank you for coming, and enjoy!

  The Void gripped at eir being, drawing em into it further. However, instinct kicked in when ey felt emself falling; consequently, when ey attempted to orient emself facing the direction ey was barreling towards ey discovered something. Instead of harsh winds, it was a zephyr that blew across eir body. Yet, instead of em being pleased by this and the seemingly endless freefall, it only stirred anticipation in their soul (not that it is a very big surprise considering the abnormality of the situation).

  On the other hand, knowing that ey was about to reach the absolute, it filled em with **DETERMINATION** (and woe, but mostly determination).

  Nevertheless, ey was still plummeting with soil proceeding ever towards em. That was when ey distinguished that instead of the dark brown ey was expecting, it was a vivid gold, along with several different hues of green that dotted the distance. Except, when ey mused over this ey overlooked one detail… ey was moving towards the radiant colors at a rather alarming rate.

  When ey did take note of this, however, ey was not anxious like ey was previously. Mayhap it was the definite of progress that soothed em. Regardless, it still didn’t prepare em for the imminent impact of em and the ground; the second ey did hit the earth, one word that ran through eir mind: _fuck_.


	2. Chapter 1- The Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk wakes up in a bed, with nowhere to go but forward, they continue. Yet Frisk meets a strange face on their way, and they have a nice little chat.
> 
>  
> 
> P.s. I didn't mean for this chapter to be this long, come out today, and become so ridiculously deep. I probably won't be bringing another part super soon but please look forward to it, bye! Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bring out your dictionary tonight Mr., Mrs., and Mx., tonight is going to be the largest organization of my immense vernacular.

 

   When ey awoke, ey felt as though ey was being embraced. The cold that surrounded em reminded em of eir beginning. Made em wish ey would never have to leave. Moreover, with the darkness that lay ahead it was all the more enticing. But, ey knew it that ey would get nowhere except the afterlife by laying here, so ey sat up; as ey did so, however, a pained wince managed to escape eir visage. Considering the bright red that filled eir line of sight ey could guess why that was.

  Taking the opportunity to gain eir bearings ey stood up on a pair of shaking legs. After taking time to steady emself, ey glanced around the room, hoping to ascertain where ey might be. Yet, much to eir dismay, all ey could see was the light that shone from the ceiling, as well as what broke eir fall: a field of golden flowers.

   Moving forward to take a closer look ey recognized the plant ey was looking at,  _ buttercups _ . A plant native to eir hometown, and, despite the innocent appearance, which are well known for being extremely poisonous. Putting that aside, it appears as though the plants are well cared for and healthy, before ey fell on them of course. Now the plants appear more sinister in nature, what with the twirling mess of stems and leaves, as well as the spotted red that dyes their once radiant yellow leaves. Ordinarily, one would be disturbed by the morbid sight, instead, ey had waves of regret roll over em; the flowers were beautiful from what ey could remember, and ey had ruined them.

   Eventually, ey tired of the burning feeling that consumed em and turned about to inspect the rest of the room. Ey was not sure what to expect, but it certainly was not a long grey corridor steeped in darkness. Regardless, ey continued onward with tepid footsteps. Soon, ey reached the end of the hallway, though not as expansive as it was at first glance, it took a minute or two with eir crawl of a walk.

   When ey arrived eir face scrunched with confusion, because, in the middle of the next room was a single flower in a small patch of grass; as though it had forced all competition of the way. Soon, curiosity overtook eir better judgement; and ey came closer to the flower, unfortunately, this flower seemed far different from any commonplace flower; the grin that spanned its face (pistil?) assured em of that. As ey approached the flower’s grin only seemed to widen, trying to seem as friendly as possible, yet failing to hide the malice lurking within. Only when ey was close enough to smell the petals of the strange creature that it opened its mouth, Consequently, the start of an upbeat tune and a high-pitched voice sounded, “Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower!”

   Befuddled, it is the best word to describe eir train of thought right now. After all, a flower, an organism that was not renowned for its ability to speak, had not only spoken to em with an immense show of sentience, but also permitted em to hear the astounding atrocity that was its naming sense. Notwithstanding, the flower continued its monologue either disregarding or completely oblivious to eir poker face (it is more so the face of unholy, internal screaming). Soon, the rumbling of a throat snapped em back to reality; looking about to see who it was, ey could only find one other than emself that could’ve done it. Attention on Flowery again, ey realized its grin had faded a bit as it spoke again, “You’re new to the underground aren’tcha?” 

_   Is it that obvious? I mean, it’s not like I have a giant gash on my head and two almost broken legs  _ ey thought. Floory took the nonexistent reply as an affirmative and continued speaking, “Golly, you must be so confused.” It mumbled, almost looking morose about eir circumstances. But, with the not so subtle glances to gauge eir reactions, and the faint look of shock that formed when it saw the scowl that took place on eir rarely shifting face, ey could tell it was lying.

   Nevertheless, Floaty was eager to keep up its charade, and tried to let the pause not affect its speech, “Someone ought to teach you how things work around here.” Footie interrupted its own soliloquy for a moment to see if ey had anything to say, and from the skepticism that roiled em, it decided to advance to the next stage of its plan before things got out of hand (leaf?). In the end, it didn’t have a clue to how a human would react to its little ruse. “I guess little old me will have to do,” It concluded.

_    Where did that leap in logic come from?  _ Ey was left to ponder this as Flowey started speaking once more, “Are you ready?”  _ No, I’m not _ , “Here we go!”

   Fallaciously, Flowey began its lecture; with its figure morphing into a monochrome set of colors and the surroundings turning dark, and darker. Surprisingly, the setting became even more unnatural as a square outline circled eir person. Last, but certainly not the least of outlandish happenings, a cartoonish and vibrant red heart encapsulated em.

   “See that heart?”  _ Not at all, what an astute observation Floppy; where might this immaculate article be located? _

   With this thought in eir mind, ey shot Flowey an unamused glare. Accordingly, Flowey faltered, recognizing itself that it asked, while completely rhetorical, an idiotic question. Seeing this, after a tad bit of deliberation, ey decidedly gave a minute cough; Flowey, although still silently lamenting its earlier inquiry, heard this and concentrated on em, it was the first peep Flowey heard from the human since they met. 

   Undivided attention was not eir strong suit, so, while ey appreciated Flowey’s courteousness and ey was not extremely shy , it did make em wither some. Conversely, this made em feel inclined to speak, and, against eir better judgement (ey was already in the conversation anyway), chose to befriend the shady yellow flower. Eir eyes full of hope shone at Flowey, while Flowey was disgusted by the action, there was feeling deep inside that stunned the flower. With that, ey let out a few choice words with eir soft yet pleasantly, ambiguous voice (I know, at long last right?), “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Frisk. I use Elverson pronouns, how about you?”

   Now it was Flowey’s turn to be puzzled; it was not as though it was ready for anything else ey might have asked, nevertheless, it certainly wasn’t expecting em to ask such a similar question to them. In its befuddlement, however, it unconsciously answered in a melancholic voice unlike its usual disposition, “Male.”

   Frisk, although taken aback by the disparity of his personality, beamed at his openness and sent out a small hand to console him. Yet, seeing this, Flowey shoveled his way into the ground and reappeared a few feet away with his cheery facade up again, “I would love to stay and chat, but, I really should explain what that heart means. After all, that’s your soul; the very culmination of your being!”

   Frisk, to say the least, was unmoved by this; ey is in a giant heart right now. Instead, ey was more or less morose, ey thought ey had befriended the plant. Uncaring, he set on his intended goal once more. “Your soul starts off weak,”  _ I guess that makes sense _ , “but it can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.”

   He must have noticed the question marks that ey was emitting, because he gave a brief sigh and continued to explain, “What does LV stand for?” He put a little giggle in his long-winded explanation (like I am one to talk), “Why, LOVE, of course!”  _ This smells of bullshit, and not because he’s a plant _ ey heeded.

  Scowling seems to not faze him, or he may be pretending it doesn’t bother him; either way, it continues. “You want some love don’t you?”  _ Not yours _ , “Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!”

  Then, from thin air, after Flowey winked; a few balls materialized (get your mind out of the gutter). “Down here LOVE is shared through…” Flowey took a second to to make a sly, and condescending smile, “Little white… ‘friendliness pellets’.”

   Finished, he gave em a wide encouraging smile trying to lull em into a false sense of security. However, his motions of hospitality only stemmed more distrust from em, they met only a few minutes ago, it was a rather coarse start too; and now he wanted to help em out? It was all so very untrustworthy and crudely progressed. Before they finished processing the affairs Flowey anewed the one-sided exchange, “Are you ready?”  _ Yet again, no, _ “Move around! Get as many as you can!”

   Prior to finishing the sentence he launched the ‘pellets’ before ey even had the chance to reply. Now, with incoming projectiles the once good-natured kid emanated a grim aura, and with a fleet and calculated movement dodged the glowing orbs just a second before they hit. Flowey, who expected the gullible kid, despite their intelligence, to go head first into the ‘friendliness pellets’ even with his foul nature, was, for lack of better words, reasonable upset. But, when Flowey caught the brat’s blackened red eyes, he promptly rued the day he came up with his scheme; contrary to the urchin’s previously mentioned kindhearted and seemingly naive demeanor, it was now rippling with an unwavering resolve. Frisk was determined to do something, what it was, Flowey did not know, yet, he was not sure he wanted to linger here.

   Flowey squinted at the kid to hoping the herald would cease its insistence, “Uh… Buddy, you missed them.” The silence was deafening.”Why don’t we try that again… okay?” Flowey gave em a tame smirk and a fleeting glance, the abyss stared back.

   With that, another round came from Flowey with even less warning and multiplied speed. The abyss is everywhere, yet nowhere, another miss. At this point, the music is already a fraction of its former self. Eir gleam, is yet even darker. Smells like toxin. Overcome with rage Flowey glowered then yelled at em, “Is this a joke? Are you brain-dead? RUN. INTO, THE. BULLETS!!!” Flowey conjured more, sending them at nothing before correcting his mistake, “friendliness pellets.”

  
  


Miss.

  
  


   Flowey morphed his face, the only scrap that remained the same was the smile, this time nothing but an abhorrent mess. Black eyes with white pupils, an upturned grin that held malicious depths behind sharp, and haunting fangs, and a deep, pointed, and mocking chuckle. Revealed, Flowey filled the void with a spirited voice, “You know what’s going on here, don’t you?” A rumbling utterance, and a haughty leer, “You just wanted to see me suffer.”

   A bullet ring around one of two horrors and two pairs of unfathomably knowing eyes. The timorous one speaking first. “ **Die.** ” A comparative chuckle commences, time drawing close.

   Closer, tighter, more compact, denser, eradicated. A titter resounds, an astonished countenance is visible  and a joyous look on one person. Secured.

_    Caprine _ the abyss thought as it stared at the mother, and the mother stared back at the presence. After the infiniteness of a second , the daze was broken with a smile and a faint voice of the vital dead, “What a horrible creature, torturing such a poor youth…” It trialed the memories of another haunted.

   Glancing back it saw the eyes of the past, although startled, it continues, “Do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins. I pass through this place everyday to see if anyone has fallen down.” With a clench of the hands it follows, “ You are the first human to come here in a long time.” The sound fading wistfully.

   Another pause stretches the time it sees those freshly ancient two in one, however, it peps up and it lured with a soothing voice, “Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.” When finished, the vicinity regains its life.

   The  ~~ three ~~ two finally perceive the other ~~ s ~~ , and the shortest tall one stirs its vocal chords into action once more, “This way.” The white one vanished, leaving only the grey in its steps. Ey had regained eir ability to move, and going along with eir better judgement ey turned back.  _ The last time I went against myself, I  _ _ had _ _ almost died. I will not walk on the middle road _ .


	3. Chapter 2- History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is a regular day inside a cavern filled with monsters, what could possibly go wrong?

Perhaps, this was not eir best idea; ey confronted Flowey for a reason, did ey not? Ey only returned to the flowers ey disfigured, ey did not do it purposely, however, there is a wraith when there was none before. Maybe waiting for em to start the exchange, or simply trying to while time, ey did not know. Yet, when ey scrutinized the flowers the other presence piped up, “A bed of golden flowers.” That confused em, were these not buttercups, if so, why refer to the bed ambiguously?

The other caught eir confusion and quickly explained, “These aren’t buttercups, they’re Gorse.” _Are you sure?_ Ey voiced inside eir head.

Yet, to eir surprise, the voice answered em once more. “One-hundred percent,” _How-_ “‘How’d I hear you?’ No idea, but, I do know that I’m stuck with you.”

The assessment was that the voice was friendly enough, if not a bit rude. Nevertheless, eir attention did not skulk on that for long; Em being the shrewd person ey is, grasped the implications straight away. Considering this, ey sent eir conclusion to the starter, it earning em a chortle, “Quick on the draw, huh? You’re right on the money. Must say though, you’re going to be an…” The spirit trailed off, trying to suppress another snicker, “interesting partner.” With end tapering off to little more than a whisper, and a simper eir way.

Blackened eyes met the other’s, the perspicacity of them earned deeper insight with the other. The alabaster one turned to the void, Frisk's ability of appraisal unsettled even the apparition. Luckily, ey unearthed eir goal and turned away; that gave the rosy-cheeked being release from eir prying eyes. Although relieved, it was from the frying pan into the fire, as ey opened eir mouth, “Chara Dreemurr, LOVE of one. I guess introductions aren’t required if you can see what I am.” Discomfited, Chara spared em a look to see eir incongruous nature expose itself.

The smile Frisk gave Chara, it sent shivers down their spine; _People say my smile is unnerving_ , they thought. Meanwhile, ey had already resumed eir course through the vault; lost in thought, a force abruptly warped them to their soulmate’s location. However, while it startled the Fallen Angel of Wrath, the approach to Toriel continued. Eventually, they made it back to the room where Toriel stood resolutely (even though it wasn’t that far), yet, when ey approached, ey stopped at the brush. With the shadows of ruins looming above em, it filled em with _determination_.

 _Glorious, you’re the most original person ever_ , Chara thought with malcontent. But, with the vehement chagrin that rose off of Frisk, they decided they should not poke a hungry bear; they are fairly positive ey would tear them apart, making that analogy abundant with irony. Quashing the squabble (used very loosely as they made no sound), ey paced up the stairs to the beat of the music; Toriel, in the meantime, kept a watchful eye on em during eir ascent up the stairs, ready to rush to em if ey happened to trip. When ey neared the top, she turned around and walked through the next passage with Frisk following shortly behind.

The next room had: a set of six plates, a lever, and a sign. Then, near the entrance of the next door, Toriel started speaking, “My child, this puzzle is the first of many in the ruins, them being ancient fusions between diversions and door keys, they need to be completed to move from room to room. Please, adjust yourself to the sight of them, now, I wonder if you can solve this one?” Finished speaking, she looked at Frisk expectantly. Without missing a heartbeat, ey approached the sign on the wall, it read: **Only the fearless may proceed. Brave ones. Foolish ones. Both walk not the middle road.**

With no hesitation, ey walked back to the puzzle, where the six pressure plates lay. Three columns in a staggered fashion. Ordinarily, it would take a few tries, conversely, ey briskly walked on the pressure plate on the top left, to the bottom left, past the bottom middle, to the bottom right, and to top right; ey then moved further to press the lever, accordingly, the doors to the next room opened. Toriel, although happy, continued onwards; she expected this much. After that, the next room seemed mundane, it had only three levers, two being on a path; from this ey could assume the sign has something along the lines of: **Stay on the path.** With such an easy solution, ey is able to pull both levers before Toriel had a chance to stop.

Consequently, ey started thinking about the reasoning and symbolism of the signs. _Stay on the path? Didn’t the other sign say to not walk the middle road, so, should I stay on the sides or follow the path laid out before me? What it merely trying to perturb my thinking, maybe, it was written down so that one learns the lesson to stay true to your decisions; rather, it could be to not make our own choices and allow fate to guide us. What even is fate? Is it simply an excuse for the misfortunes that befall us, a strong force leading a play, possibly a book, that allows its readers to make a choice that changes the possible outcomes, still on a set destination? Moreover, is it a game set into motion by the billions of choices by the billions of NPCs, maybe, they’re PCs that still affect your game’s outcome even if they’re uncontrollable?_ While on such a tangent, ey finally caught emself; _no, you’re overthinking it. Even if those were the intentions, this is a completely irrelevant train of thought, while it may come in handy to have this freshly in my mind, at the moment, I have no need for it. First off, I just need to complete the puzzles. Then, I can mull over the correlations of plot points._

A gasp of relief came from Chara, “You don’t make it easy sharing a mind with you, do you?” After Frisk turned towards them with a puzzled look, they reluctantly came beside em to speak, after all, it’s rude to not be looking at someone while they’re talking, “I heard all of that, it made even my head hurt, and I don’t even have one!”

That line earned Chara a chuckle from Frisk. _I’m sorry,_ ey relayed, _I do that sometimes, when I come across something that provokes such massive amounts of speculation. In fact, I don’t even know if you’re merely a figment of my imagination, maybe, you’re an apparition whose purpose is to simply drive me insane? Possibly, a spirit here to lead me through the underworld, how about, the bearer of an omen long ago driving you to-_ “That’s enough,” Chara said grimly, “can you just continue?”

 _Oh? Have I hit a nerve?_ Frisk thought mischievously, _Being so snappy seems a bit… out of character for you._ “Seriously, this isn’t a laughing mat-” Toriel interjected, “My child, are you okay? You aren’t hurt are you?”

Ey’d forgotten about Toriel who was looking at em with a concerned gaze, standing in the same spot, laughing, and looking into a corner, it is not exactly the best way to make someone feel reassured of your mental health. Frisk decided to speak up before ey worried her anymore, “No, I’m fine I was just thinking about something interesting.” Toriel became curious upon hearing this, “What could be more interesting than puzzles?”

Frisk, seeing the opportunity, jumped at it, “I don’t know, it is quite…puzzling.” Toriel, taking a moment to process, started howling in laughter; after tittering a while, she spat, “Thank you for the laugh my child, but, I still want to know what you were thinking about. Don’t think you can riddle your way out of it.”

“Okay,” Frisk said, “I was thinking about the puzzles in the past couple of rooms.” Toriel, intrigued, inquired further, “What exactly about them, my child?”

Frisk gave a little grin, “I was thinking about the symbolism of the puzzles and signs, to not walk the middle road and stay on the path, could it be saying to take a stance on something and stick to it?”

Toriel was surprised by eir line of thinking, “I suppose it could be, my child. The ruins were here long before the monsters ever came here, so, I don’t know what thought went into the making of the puzzles. What if there was no correlation, maybe, the puzzles simply had a vaguely similar premise?”

“That could very well be true, after all, I was only theorizing. But, isn’t it pretty interesting?” Toriel, who listened to this, sunk into her own thoughts; she had been here for many decades and she never thought of that. While, she knew children are sometimes the most clever of us, such a line of thinking is odd; especially for whom she estimated to be but ten years of age.

Toriel’s perception of the young one deepened, “My child… may I ask you what your name is?” Toriel, who had lived in the ruins for many years, never asked this of the humans that fell down, for, she was afraid of becoming overly attached. Luckily, she never did learn the children’s names; she couldn’t read others stats, unlike some of her kind.

Frisk, returning a firm gaze, spoke, “I’ve been crude, haven’t I?” Toriel who wished to interrupt didn’t; lest, she makes their conversation go awry (every time I use they/them in a story with I get confused, I wonder if anyone who reads this does too).

“My name is Frisk,” with a little bow, Frisk looks back up at her with an acute glint in eir eye.

Dumbfounded once more, Toriel could easily see the pattern that will occur. If left to continue, she would coddle this child; then, she would end up left behind, just like the others. The children that fell before em were like any other child she knew; maybe, she had grown complacent and underestimated em. She loves children, that is a fact; nevertheless, not all children think and act the same. No child is a carbon copy of any other. So, she had to take a different approach to em; to be loving, but, to also not stifle eir will; which, is unlike anything she’s ever seen.

The eyes are the gateway to the soul, while it would be more accurate to say the mind; the point still stands. Eir eyes are full of hope, like any other child that much is expected; however, eir eyes have an extraordinary amount of tenacity swirling within. Yet, the crooked prudence of it reminds her of one she lost long ago; their likeness is uncanny. Assuming from the probing look that ey set on her, she suspects that she has been quiet for too long. “I am sorry, my child. I was just thinking about which route to take to get to my home,” Toriel said, trying to divert eir attention.

 _She’s lying_ , ey saw through the fib immediately; this made em intensify eir stare. _To be lying to my face already, she’s quite insecure._ Coming to this conclusion, ey gave an internal sigh, and simply nodded eir head and accepted her obvious lie. Toriel, who had tensed slightly under eir eyes, relaxed a bit; however, maybe because she wanted to get away from the atmosphere, she started walking into the next room. Chara, dumbfounded by the abrupt change of pace, barely reacted fast enough to reach the Frisk and Toriel before they entered the next room.

Toriel, in the next room, had recalled that she had another thing to teach the child: how to ‘fight’ a monster. Looking to the dummy, that appeared in this room many days ago, she settled herself in the corner of the room; and decided to give her tutorial once more, “As a human living in the Underground, monsters may attack you. You will need to be prepared for this situation. However, worry not!” Toriel paused, “The process is simple; When you encounter a monster you will enter a Fight, when you are in a Fight, strike up a friendly conversation.”

Noticing Frisk’s questioning look, Toriel continued, “Stall for time, I will come to resolve the conflict-” Toriel, taking another brief pause, extended her arm towards the mannequin near the middle of the room, “Practice talking to the dummy.”

Frisk, trusting Toriel’s judgment, walked towards the dummy. When ey did so, ey is suddenly pulled into the battlefield ey had been in with Flowey, except, this time, four floating boxes appeared before them. The buttons said as follows: FIGHT, ACT, ITEMS, and MERCY. Taking note of the oddly orange and bolded colors, ey pressed on the one labeled act; it is the only one that ey didn’t know what would happen if ey pressed it. But, before ey did so, Chara said suddenly, “A wild dummy appears!”

 _Really Chara? Why are you narrating, and how long did it take you to think of that one?_ Chara gave a little huff and turned their back towards em, “I only just thought of it!” The sight of Chara pouting enticed a giggle to come out of eir mouth.

Chara, who saw this, turned a violent hue of scarlet, “I just thought it would be interesting!” Their frantic attempts to hide their embarrassment only made Frisk giggle even more; luckily, ey is able to keep eir snickering to where Toriel couldn’t notice.

Regardless, after Frisk pressed the button labeled act, another box came up in front of em. Again, it was different, it showed two options, Check, and Speak; one highlighted by a red heart: Speak. Frisk, with only one other option, decided to talk to the dummy, “Hello, how are you today?”

Chara interjected once more, “You talked to the dummy... it doesn’t seem much for conversation.” Another short hesitation, “Toriel seems happy with you.” With that, large words appeared inside the text-box, displaying: YOU WON! You earned 0 Gold and 0 EXP.

Toriel, delighted by eir cooperation, said, “Ah, very good! Very good!” After, she continued ahead to the next chamber.

Frisk although dazed, by Toriel’s sudden change in behavior, decided to trail behind her. Leading, Toriel abruptly turned around as ey came through the doorway, “There is another puzzle in this room… I wonder if you can solve it?” _Challenge accepted_ , thought Frisk.

Like a spirit possessed, Frisk examined the room for abnormalities. While, there was little glaringly obvious about the violet space, one thing stood out in particular; the floor had a pattern in a shade considerably brighter than the purple surrounding it. A simple zigzag formation, ey thought. Is it length specific, or, is the pattern scaled to fit the room? With this in mind, ey continued forth to a corridor where the middle needlessly protruded out of the wall. However, as ey continued past the first corner of the hallway, a frog jumped out from nowhere and entered a Fight with em.

A break, a tear, and a snap. The instant the vaguely familiar, mostly white and black battlefield appeared, ey changed. Chara, sensing the change, drifted away from em; they did not like where this was going. Frisk, if you could call em that, had changed completely; now, ey have a daunting atmosphere, even with eir monotonous face.

Tersely, ey pressed the button labeled: **Fight**. Chara, taken aback by eir sudden change in personality, spared em a callous look to gauge eir thoughts; they very quickly came to remember why ey is such an interesting partner. Ey had an aura, so thick you could see it in eir soul, made of a restrained purple roiling about. Ey shifted like a puppet on strings; just seconds after pressing **Fight** , ey dashed at an astonishing pace towards the frog. But, ey did not stop before arriving to the frog.

The frog, realizing its dreadful circumstances, produced a horrifying cry. Detached, Frisk settled eir fist on the frog’s face and drove it into a wall; dust began to fill the fissures that appeared in the wall. Surprisingly, even with dust flowing, the paralyzed frog was still alive with 1 HP. Yet, the frog could not create any magical attack, and ey did not wait for the frog’s turn. Ey spared no hesitation, quickly pressing the button labeled **Mercy** and ended the Fight. YOU WON! You gained 0 EXP and 3 gold.

Toriel, who saw Frisk’s actions, hastily turn around and continued to the second part of the area. Both of them, disregarding the sign, maintained their brief walk, then, Toriel stopped at a long bridge of spikes to speak. However, even with Toriel halting, Frisk moved according to the pattern ey found. Toriel, astonished by eir actions, even went as far as to make small bleating noises as ey crossed. “It’s not safe my child!” She exclaimed.

Frisk, seemingly unable to hear Toriel’s cries, pressed onward. Ultimately, ey made it to the end of the bridge, where Toriel, with her much longer legs and fervent pace, reached em; ey pivoted eir head to where eir numb eyes looked directly into her fervid ones. The contact, although brief, was enough to somber Toriel and control Frisk. She saw the sunken in eyes that ey had, the deep irrationality, and the conflicted calm; ey saw the embedded loneliness, and the discordant love and hatred. Both abandoned the task of walking for a time and simply stood for what seemed to be hours. In the end, Toriel walked into the passage where the next room laid.

Finished, Frisk and Toriel walked down a long corridor where a single pillar stood near the end of the room. When they stood beside the pillar, she pulled out a phone and handed it to Frisk; ey gazed at her with a flinty glare. “I have errands to run, this, is a cellphone,” she handed em an almost brick-like phone.

"if you have any questions, be sure to call," Toriel then stood to leave, but, before doing so, she spoke in a dour voice, "Be good, alright?"

Then, Toriel increased the distance between her and Frisk before proceeding through the ruins. Gloomily, ey sat beside the lone pillar, and lamented; _it happened again_ , ey thought. “Again?” Chara voiced. “That’s happened before?”

Consequently, Frisk turned to Chara with a disturbed look, “How much did you hear? How much did you see?” As ey continued speaking, eir voice became louder and more hostile.

Chara, figuring out what Frisk was implicating, opened their mouth once more, “I didn’t see or hear much of anything, all I heard from you was a whole lot of static...” another pause, “but, I wonder how long that’ll last.” A small chuckle escaped after they whispered the last word.

Frisk, either deaf to or ignoring Chara, simply stood to look towards where ey came from, only to see a large flower peering at em from afar.

Next, the projectiles flew, the world darkened, and iron filled eir taste buds.Unfortunately, it gouges out holes, cuts as deep as 4 centimeters lined eir arms and legs. The ones around em in no better shape, always fighting, their mind and flesh rotting away. Each one drinks the other’s blood, they have no choice; fate is a cruel mistress. `</p>`

Everyone trapped there were the same, the same skin, the same name, the same identity. But, one did not conform, their hair had a different length, their skin had a different shade, their mind was a different set. They were chipped at, tucked in a corner, still rotting, still, they were filled with the beauty of difference. That’s what they were, different. A life like their sisters, it was one they could not stand; the blood and hormones that ran through them was their own, not theirs. Nonetheless, this one, although different, put on a facade. They built a mask as thick as their skin. Despite this, despite their conformance, they were ostracized; even with the same walk, the same talk, they were alienated. At least, their abandonment came later, not before they could do something. However, they were born with a will a hundred times stronger than others, they had seen the light, they had seen the road, and they had seen the shallow grave where they are the load. 

 At their young age, they aced every test given, every question asked, every word they said came out perfectly. They knew how to read and write by the age of two, they could strike down one twice their size, it did not matter who. Still, squandered it was by those who did not understand, moreover, by those who oppose justice with perverting its meaning. Equally, their ideals were mute to the cognizance of the plurality; the will of the chauvinistic few also diminished theirs. Accordingly, they lost the war with their brothers in arms; prisoner to the entity they held true. Ultimately, they were the forfeiture for the diabolical. Of course, there were those who cried out, but, soon it became unspoken; it even became normal. Without delay, they went through hell. Muscle and fat were torn from their being, lashes were engraved in their self, their insides were twisted… slowly; in contrast, they were one of the utmost fortunate, which is tacit for their brethren. 

Here, as a resident in their very own bastille, they survived day in and day out, albeit, barely; left with but a speck of life by the time the Sun lingered on the horizon. Furthermore, they were implored to butcher and slaughter their peers; at first, they were against it, and they slyly avoided it. Soon, they were forced to commit the one act of unspeakable treachery, and they became numb. Sooner or later, they succumbed, and they submitted to their slave drivers; at the same time, they kept their pretense, mayhap, it became even more unyielding. Then again, is life really that easy? The torture only became worse as time went on, without delay, they were exterminated; decimated again and again. Consequently, they were not even fit to be used as ground meat; the skin and organs, even the bone, they were pulverized into an indistinguishable sludge. But, they did not disappear, rather, they came back, good as new, even with their muck strewn about. 

One day, they had risen again, however, this time they returned with a renewed dogma; they slaughtered every last one of them. Perhaps, there were hundreds, thousands even, that felt their indignation; all of them marked with their names and the sins they had committed, as done to them. Even so, wiping out an entire town did not leave them unscathed, no matter how strong; their clothes were not only bloodied by their victims, but them-self as well. There were cuts, down to the bone, made by them and their prey, even so, they did not stop; they murdered every last father, woman, and child. Eventually, with every face gone, known and unknown to them, they escaped into the mountains, never to be seen again. 

Then, Frisk, who bestirred after seeing the history of Mt. Ebbott, stood from where ey fell; as ey did so, ey took a slow look over the hallway once more. In general, eir surroundings did not change, except, Flowey and Chara are no longer anywhere they can see, Toriel too; ey even checked behind the pillar! Accordingly, ey is confused, nonetheless, ey is unwilling to await their arrival. Ey staggers forward, into the hallway Toriel left in, and edged down eir road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the wording is a bit clunky, and, there is a considerable amount of passive voice. I also know the ending is somewhat abrupt, not super, somewhat. However, it really sets the mood (it's also easier to write). Also, I know it shouldn't have taken this long to make a 4000 word chapter, I am deeply sorry, yet, I am not going to stop here, I will bring another chapter decently soon (I hope). So, please enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. If anyone wants to help me writing it, let me know. I'll tell you what I have planned so far (which, honestly isn't a ton) and I could send you the link (I'm also checking the revision history if you want to fuck with it). Nevertheless, I do want help, not only because I am awful at not spending twice as long editing my story as writing it, everything is more fun with another (well, not everything if you know what I mean ;] ).


	4. Chapter 3-LOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you for reading! Next, sorry for taking so long after only bringing you a 1-2000 word chapter, I had an enormous writer's block and had schoolwork to do. Anyways, this chapter has a different writing style than usual, please give feedback!
> 
> P.S. Still looking for some help, I'm not very creative so I'd love some, you can mail me at my email account; I check often.

_ Hemorrhaging, _ some aged cuts opened back up on Frisk’s head and neck, maybe they reopened during eir sudden blackout.  _ The bandages can only be reapplied so many times,  _ after some contemplation, ey halfheartedly pulled at the swathes lining eir arms in a pile of red leaves. At the same time, a grotesque sight came rolling into view; scars, bright pink in contrast to eir white, but well-tanned skin, lined nearly every centimeter; most of which, went straight up and down. Still, ey took the still surviving bandages and wrapped them around eir skull; in the end, ey ran out, however, it wasn’t enough. In light of this, eir scowl that formed during the process only became deeper,  _ the only ones I have left are on my legs. _ In the end, ey started tugging at the layers of fiber around eir legs; only, ey came to see a scene even worse than eir arms. Of course, it is atrociously nauseating. Muscle, torn away from the bone in enormous chunks, wounds, with pus oozing from them, the tibia and fibula fractured, with large chips falling off, needless to say, none of it could have been self-inflicted; moreover, a strange, virtually black liquid is flowing from each cell. Yet, each part is already rebuilding and scabbing over. Even so, ey did not seem the slightest bit flustered about it, like ey was when looking at eir arms, in fact, ey seemed almost ashamed, with eir crooked smile. Regardless, ey finished wrapping eir crown with the gore riddled, tattered bandages.

 

Filled with determination, Frisk arose from the now crimson dyed flowers, ey then went to the conspicuous golden star placed in the patch ey was sitting in. Then, as ey approached, ey reached out to the star; only, the usual black and white textbox showed up. Immediately, ey knows something is wrong, the box, presumably meant to show three points personal information, only contained question marks; all of which, reached five. In contrast, one line below them has fully formed words, that says:  **Ruins - Leaf Pile** ; nevertheless, ey simply pressed the first of two options  **Save** and **Return** at the bottom. After, ey turned around, only to see the desperately crawling figure of the Froggit ey brutalized; quickly, ey reached it.  This time, with a caring face, ey stopped in front of the Froggit, and it almost seemed like ey forgot what ey did; its dust had yet to stop flowing.

 

“Human,” the black text box appeared again, “if you act a certain way with a monster, you may be able to  **Spare** them. Human, if a monster doesn’t wish to fight you, please... use some  **MERCY** .”

 

With that, the Froggit gave way and slowly faded to dust in front of em, this made Frisk send out a shrill cry; ey did this. The cry, imbued with melancholy, only led to tears spewing from eir sockets; ey lead to it to its death.  _ I had to I-I-I had to, it was going to hurt me, I… I…  _

 

Immediately, ey started scratching at eir arms, following, life drained from the remaining discolorations; each drop crawled, and, bit by bit, they shambled up, forcing em to consume the vile coagulation. Screams materialized, forceful, in contrast, they simply dissolved into the dark but ever increasingly darker existence. Boring into em, it ate away at eir nerves; no matter how much ey tried, ey could not scream, ey could not move, ey could not feel. Ey tried, for what seemed to be hours. Paralyzing, it is not just eir fear that prevented em from moving, it would not let em; it converged deeper into em, tearing away at eir insides, slowing eir heart, pulling away ever incessantly. It forced its thoughts into eir mind, to justify: ey was not in the wrong, ey had to, ey had no other option, there is no fault on eir part. Then, inky fields merged into em, constricting and strangling; air did not flow into eir lungs. Subsequently, it asphyxiates em; the thing only continues to think when eir brain cannot, eir eyes roll back into eir head, blue to dye eir dying body, and ey will be in another reality. However, it let go of em; ey could breathe, think, see, feel. Majestic colors are in eir sight as it has been; ey found emself on eir knees.

 

Next, after giving time a chance to move, ey began to sweep up the dust. The dust ey swept up, barely able to fill eir hand, eventually faded, merging inside em and eir tainted, blue and purple sweater. Contrarily, ey did not feel whole, not as sad as before; instead, ey felt an intimate, but appalling dissonance. Almost, like it had something subtracted that was not there; ey felt negative.

 

In the end, Frisk simply stood, almost like the Froggit’s death was dust in the wind. Eir eyes panned around the room, giving it another look over. The area contained three passages; one ey came from in the northwest, with a path leading to another in the southeast, and a leftover one to the north. Also, it had one red and one slightly darker leaf pile. Swiftly, ey moved to the door to the north, it was the one most likely to be a dead end.

When Frisk settled into the the next room, ey again gave it a scan; in it, two streams of water ran along the sides, and a pedestal, holding a single bowl, stood in the middle of the room. Interested, ey tentatively neared the pillar, instead, ey found just a small paper saying:  **Please take one.** Therefore, one would think that ey’d take a candy, and ey started to; but, ey soon pulled away. Irrationalities ran through eir mind _ , I can’t, I don’t know who made it or where it’s been; they may be toxic. _

Frisk, in the end, walked out from the dead end fruitless. Unfortunately, ey had not done a thorough enough job, as it seems, the dust that now twirled about in the previously pristine room was the Froggit’s. Dead skin tickled eir nose, begging em to further disrupt the remains of the deceased frog. Repulsed, ey took a few steps away, retching; but, ey took a couple steps too far. For, a monster, no bigger than a few inches tall, with two small wings, legs, and arms, a pair of antennae, and a body that almost looks like a sheet was draped over it, entered a  **Fight** with em.

The creature, seemingly terrified, scooted up to Frisk to wait for eir move. Ey could tell that the fly-like creature had no quarrel with em, it had no intent, but, even ey could not stop eir reflexes; once again, ey blew through the monster, leaving it with one HP. The creature, that now has one less leg due to eir attack, had no power to stop em.

After, Frisk briskly walked away from eir victim, only to stop, coughing up the same black substance that overtook em earlier. Ey did not want this, _I just want to go home, I just want to live, I just…_ Eir thoughts faded away again.

 

Then, that old burning feeling swelled in eir chest, eir breathing became short and erratic, sweat oozed out from eir pores, and ey began to gag. But, the symptoms did not slow, they even sped up, like eir body was telling em to self-destruct. Once more, ey fell to the ground, ey seems to be doing that a lot recently, choking and crying. Unable to breath, ey only continued to convulse, a gooey black puddle emerged, expelled from eir stomach; it clotted together hastily, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Nonetheless, the squirming puddle could not compare to the writhing person above it, ey continued to hack, eir face turning a deep red to keep eir brain alive; it was not long before ey finally hacked up some blood and a new, white substance. The lake below seemed to eagerly pull in the white, forming what seemed to be a face. 

 

The grinning, white, mask-like face just peered at Frisk, it just stayed still; in spite of this, the rest of its body moved erratically. It was then that ey heard a voice beside em, “You are an interesting one. Very different from the others.”

 

Frantically, Frisk pivoted eir head to see who was speaking, when ey saw nobody near em, ey rested eir eyes upon abomination that previously had eir attention. The ghastly masked creature just had its smile grow wider, “Quick to catch on, too,” as it said this, the darkness slowly encumbered em.

 

The mask came closer, seemingly taking up the entirety of Frisk’s vision. Then, it gave a slight chuckle as it spoke once more, “You’re some valuable data, corrupt yet still here.” The presence slowly moved closer in on em, before giving em the feeling of being enclosed in a bag or sack, morphing around eir flailing limbs.

 

The constricting feeling lasted for what felt like days, although it surely stayed for but few moments, it was exhausting. The memories Frisk wished to forget roiled up to the surface and tore at eir mind; but, unfaltering, a voice came from the void, “I’ll see you around… Human.” With a condescending tone the mask melded into the black veil wrapping around em.

 

Frisk, left like a used-rag by the gelatinous being, rose once more with a smile emblazoned on eir face. Then, ey struck at a lone monster next to the room’s exitway; it continues.


End file.
